


Least Expected Outcome

by Jadesymb



Series: Unexpected Beauty Verse [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dancing, Get Together, Light BDSM, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, POV Steve Rogers, Seduction, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesymb/pseuds/Jadesymb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony: "No, this is great, they're a great band. I promise, everyone loves this band, she'll love the band. She'll love the band  and she will love you. Are you going to wear that? You can't wear that."<br/>Steve: "I don't know, Tony..."<br/>Tony: "Everything's arranged, tickets purchased, ride acquired. Want the limo? You can totally take the limo. And anyway, if you decide you don't like the band there's always the pole dancers."<br/>Steve: "No, I don't want the limo. Wait, what?"</p><p>Or the one where Steve isn't sure how to interpret Clint and Phil (or himself, for that matter).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Least Expected Outcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sinope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinope/gifts).



> Please check the tags, and then the notes at the end if you feel you need further details before reading.
> 
> This fic is for the AO3 Auction! Thank you to [Sinope](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinope/pseuds/Sinope) for bidding. I hope this fic makes you happy!

Music thumped almost painfully in his sensitive ears, but Steve was practically oblivious to anything other than the man writhing on the pole across the room. He knew it was a different time, but it honestly hadn’t occurred to him that, in this age of gender equality, men would be pole dancing, let alone doing it in a regular dance club. 

A rush of want spiked straight to his groin as the man on the pole began pulling himself upward, hand over hand toward the high ceiling. The muscles in his back shone with sweat as they worked. Steve was mesmerized, until he saw the flash of a familiar tattoo poking out from under the low-slung waistband on the only article of clothing left to the man, black cargo shorts. Well, shorts and a slim collar around his neck. A familiar jolt of shame rushed through him at the realization that he might, once again, be panting over his teammate. 

Steve was pretty sure that Clint was the pole dancer in question. 

Steve glanced around wildly. Yes, it must be Clint, because leaning up against the bar, watching intently, was Coulson. The sight of him made Steve actively work to school his expression, to ignore the need that now plagued him whenever he ran into Clint or Phil in their off hours. Especially when he ran into them together. The two of the them were poetry in motion. 

Phil was wearing his work pants and white button down shirt from early today, but now his tie was missing. His sleeves were rolled up, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and a sly, possessive smile in place, as he watched his partner work the pole. 

Which raised the question, why was Clint pole dancing anyway? 

Steve glanced over at his date, who was standing nearby, but her eyes were on the stage that contained the live band. Tony had arranged everything, setting him up with Esther from the Stark Commercial Application of New Technology lab. If he was being honest with himself, he had to admit he genuinely liked his date tonight. Tony was getting much better at playing matchmaker. And if Steve actually told Tony that he didn’t really find himself all that attracted to women in general, Tony might finally succeed on his latest self-appointed mission to get Steve laid. Of course, that would mean admitting out loud something that Steve still struggled with. 

Esther leaned in to Steve, her voice straining against the music, “So, Steve, how would you feel about heading back to my place? The band is on their last set.” 

“Actually, I just saw some friends of mine. How about I walk you out and call you a cab?” Steve answered loudly, and tried to ignore her hurt look at his response. “I had a wonderful time though! We should do this again,” he added with a smile. 

“Yes!” Her sweet grin returned, and she let Steve guide her towards the exit. 

They made mindless small talk until her cab arrived, but Steve was still stuck on the image of Clint on stage. Steve gave her a kiss on the cheek before helping her into the car. After he waved the cab off, he returned to the club, his eyes searching for Clint. 

The music had changed, the live band gone, and a DJ had taken over. Disappointment seeped in when he looked at the pole where Clint had been and saw it was now occupied by someone else. He looked back to the bar and saw Coulson was still standing in the same place. Steve followed Coulson’s gaze, and saw Clint out in the middle of the crowded dance floor, dancing closely with a few other patrons. When Steve glanced back at Coulson, he found himself meeting Coulson’s eyes. Coulson waved at Steve, who felt compelled to head in that direction, now that he had been spotted.

“Hi, Coulson. Didn’t know you’d be here. Tony set me up on a date with tickets to the band that was playing earlier,” Steve spoke as he leaned against the bar. 

“I’ve told you before that you can call me Phil.” Coulson smiled at him, then gestured the bartender over and ordered a Shirley Temple for Steve. Steve was grateful, because it really was his favorite beverage, but he always felt a little silly ordering one. Since he couldn’t get drunk, he really didn’t see the point of drinking anyway. 

“Clint looks like he’s having fun,” Steve commented as he turned to watch the dance floor. 

Clint was dancing, his actions lithe and sure. He was pressed close to the back of an unfamiliar woman in a short pink skirt with a scoop-necked top. Her ass was tucked nicely into Clint’s crotch, rubbing up against him in what seemed to Steve to be a completely sexually inappropriate manner. As he watched, another woman moved up behind Clint on the dance floor, and pressed her body all along Clint’s back. Her hands slipped around his waist, and Steve could see where they were disappearing up under the black tank top Clint had recovered while Steve had been outside. Clint leaned back against her, while thrusting his hips forward into the first woman, lost in the music.

“Uh, I mean,” Steve started, feeling a blush spread across his face as he looked panicked at Phil, expecting some sort of reaction from the man. Phil was relaxed, his lips curled up just a bit at the corners. Steve recognized the dark look of lust that gleamed in Phil’s eyes from the Vegas Op. The stupid mission where Steve had developed his stupidly inappropriate crushes on both Phil and Clint.

“He loves to dance. To come out to a place like this and get lost in the pulse of the music, the feel of nameless hands and eyes on him. He finds it so freeing.” Coulson was leaning in, closer to Steve, pressing his shoulder into Steve’s. Closing the distance between them just to make it easier to talk over the music, surely. Phil’s voice was closer, but quieter, meant only for Steve as he continued, “He says it’s even better if I’m here, because he can really let go. He knows I’ve got him, that I’ll keep him safe, let him fly free.” 

Steve could feel Phil’s warm breath on his ear. Goosebumps erupted down Steve’s neck as he thought about what it would be like if Phil leaned in that final inch, put his teeth against Steve’s neck and gently scraped. Steve tipped his head back, his eyes slipped closed of their own accord. He leaned into Phil just a little bit more, moving on instinct instead of thought. A shiver ran through his body as he realized that Phil had curved his arm on the bar behind them, that Steve was now tucked up against the smaller man.

“Are you enjoying watching him too?” Phil’s lips brushed against Steve’s ear this time, and Steve forced himself to bite back a moan. The music pulsed inside him, and he wanted to just give in; to relax, to let the knot wound tight inside him, that kept him so controlled, loosen, under Phil’s hands. He wanted what Clint had, and at the same time, he wanted Clint too. Wanted Clint under his hands, his tongue. Wanted to feel the way Clint would writhe under his touch. Instead, he forced himself to take a fortifying breath, to straighten his body. He began to pull away from Phil, but as he shifted, Phil’s arm suddenly moved from the bar to tighten around Steve’s waist. Steve could feel Coulson’s fingers sliding under his shirt, pressing on his hip as he gently pulled Steve closer to his side.

“It’s okay, Steve. You can trust me, trust us. You can relax,” Phil’s lips ghosted against his ear again. “You can even go dance with Clint if you want. He’d like that. I know I’d love it.” 

Steve found himself relaxing again, sinking further into Phil. All of the places their bodies touched felt alive like nothing before. Steve tried to keep the wave of lust out of his voice, “I’m not sure it’d be appropriate.” 

His eyes sought Clint, still dancing, now with his arms wrapped around a different woman, her body pressed tightly against his as they gyrated sinfully to the music. Clint ran his hands up her body as she arched into him, and Steve could see the sweat glinting on Clint’s neck, slipping down his body. He longed to lean in, to breathe in Clint, to press his body along the archer's firm, muscular back.

Steve's hand slid over Phil's. A shocked thrill raced through Steve's body as Phil’s fingers traced the waistband of Steve’s jeans. He felt reeled in, sparks racing between them, wanted so badly to pull Phil closer, to bury his face in the crook of Phil’s neck. 

“It’s fine. Clint and I both agree on that. Why don’t you go, dance with him?” Phil’s hand traced back towards Phil, fingers skimming along Steve’s back. Phil’s hand paused at the middle of Steve’s back, then gave him a gentle push towards Clint. 

“Won’t you join us?” Steve asked over his shoulder. 

Coulson responded with a smirk, “I like to watch.” 

Skin flushed, heart racing, Steve took another fortifying breath before moving towards Clint. 

Tony thought that Steve was a blushing virgin, that he had no experience whatsoever with sex. Tony was wrong. During the war, there had been a few encounters. Hot kisses stolen in army tents, hurried hand jobs in the dark, the occasional exchange of blow jobs during the rare convergence of free time and privacy. Since he’d woken in the future, he’d even been to some dance clubs before; gone dancing, finally, with some beautiful women. But he’d never danced with a man before, never been close to a man in any way that could be misconstrued as sexual while in a public forum, no matter how badly he'd wanted it.

This - moving towards Clint, leaning into Phil - this was all uncharted territory for Steve, and while he burned with desire, he wasn’t sure he should do anything about it. He could have stopped, could have walked away and pretended like whatever happened at the bar with Phil never happened. Instead, he glanced back at Phil, saw Phil’s gesture encouraging him forward, and continued out onto the dance floor.

The space between Clint and Steve opened up, and Steve felt another spark of want as he watched the lines of Clint’s back. He moved up behind Clint, unseen and unnoticed in the large mass of people dancing. He was finally close enough to touch Clint, to trace his hands along Clint’s hips, feel the way he rolled them slow and filthy in time with the heavy beat. Close enough to tuck his fingers under Clint’s shirt, see if the electricity he felt with Phil sparked the same with Clint. 

He hesitated instead, worried about their working relationship, the impact his choices could have on the team. Afraid of getting in between Phil and Clint, of being the reason the relationship he found so compelling, shattered. But Phil seemed to want this, for some reason Steve did not understand.

“Steve.” 

Clint’s voice caught his attention. Clint was still facing away from him, Steve had no idea how the archer knew he was approaching. He watched, mesmerized, as Clint tipped his head back towards Steve, his neck arched upwards, exposed.

“Come on, Steve. Please?” Clint pleaded. 

Steve wasn’t sure that anyone else could even hear Clint over the din of the music. Clint was speaking the words just for Steve, and it reeled him in much the way his partner had at the bar. Steve felt helpless in their thrall, and moved forward, finally giving in and stepping up to Clint. He attempted to move with the music, but couldn’t quite bring himself to close the last inch between his body and Clint’s. 

Luckily, Clint seemed to have no apprehension. As soon as Steve lightly put a hand on Clint’s hip, Clint's full body pressed into Steve’s space. 

Steve had thought he was prepared for the sudden invasion of Clint into his space, but he had been so wrong. The want jolted through his entire body, straight to his groin. Clint’s muscled back pressed into Steve’s chest, while Clint’s shapely ass fit perfectly between Steve’s legs. Clint rocked back with the music, rubbing blatantly against Steve’s suddenly very interested cock. Clint’s hand snaked up and reached back over Steve’s shoulder, tugging him closer as Clint tilted his head back, resting against Steve as he gyrated. Steve instinctively pulled Clint closer, his hands sliding along Clint’s hips, a groan escaping from his lips. 

“Didn’t think you’d ever do this. Wanted you to,” Clint mumbled into Steve’s neck. 

Steve almost froze at the thought. Clint wanted to dance like this with him? Phil and Clint wanted this? Confusion fluttered through Steve, affirming that he was in way over his head with this, and he started to pull back. 

Clint squirmed, releasing the woman in front of him to turn and pull Steve in closer, rubbing against Steve like a cat. “Stay. Relax. Phil’s got us. And he likes to watch.” Clint’s arms went around Steve’s neck, and he pulled Steve in closer, nipping at Steve’s ear while murmuring the lyrics to the music into Steve’s skin. 

Steve felt himself let go, lulled by Clint’s movements, relaxing back into the lust and the beat of the music. Clint’s hands and body moved in time with his, Steve leaned in to nuzzle at Clint’s neck in return. His hands slid under Clint’s tank to run along his sweat-slicked skin, tracing the shape of Clint’s abs with his fingers. Steve gasped in shock when Clint retaliated by palming Steve’s cock through his jeans, right on the dance floor. 

The part of Steve that normally would shy away from a public display and be horrified by their actions, seemed to have taken some sort of vacation. Instead, he leaned into Clint, never wanting this to end. He was aware, peripherally, of other bodies around them, dancing with them, touching him, but Steve just let himself go; into the music, into sensation, into the pleasure of Clint’s body moving against his. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but there was suddenly a hand on his shoulder, the firm and familiar grip dragged him back to reality. 

“Beautiful. Both of you,” Phil whispered in his ear, “But it’s time to head back now.” And then Coulson was slipping between them, wrapping an arm around each of them. 

Clint leaned into Phil, his face disappearing into Phil’s shoulder. “Phil," Steve could just barely make out Clint’s mumble, “Take us home. I need you. Please. I want you inside of me.” 

Steve felt his face flush at the explicit honesty in Clint’s words. He realized that whatever haze he’d been in, Clint was still there, still under. Steve let go of Coulson and wormed his way to the other side of Clint, wrapped a firm arm around him, and let Phil guide them to the exit. Phil looked at Steve, his mouth curling into that soft smile, the smile that Steve had only ever seen used on Clint. Something fluttered in Steve’s chest at the sight. Maybe there was more to this than he had dared let himself hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings- Steve, twice in this fic, goes to move away from Clint or Phil, because he is unsure. They respond by lightly physically restraining Steve, pulling him back in. Steve, in his head, is okay with this, but he never gives verbal consent. 
> 
> This fic is for [Sinope](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinope/pseuds/Sinope). She requested a sequel to "Unexpected Beauty," asking for more Steve/Clint/Phil. I had actually not planned to turn this into M/M/M, but had another direction in mind, but once Sinope requested this I realized that THIS was the way that this universe was going. I love this fic, and I'm so glad I wrote it. Thank you Sinope, for it would never have come to pass without you!
> 
>  
> 
> My lovely editors [ArcticMel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticMel/pseuds/ArcticMel), [Brasslizard](http://brasslizard.tumblr.com/) and Spencer. Without you guys I would not be posting.
> 
> I am on [tumblr](http://jadesymb.tumblr.com/). Comments and Kudos always make me smile, so THANK YOU for reading, for commenting, for kudos. You make my day and keep me writing!


End file.
